


the driving force

by thisissirius



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternative Universe - FBI, Bubble Bath, F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-22 00:45:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13155576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisissirius/pseuds/thisissirius
Summary: “You could be more sympathetic,” Clary says, wringing out her t-shirt. The cold is starting to seep into her skin and the sooner she gets somewhere warm, the better. The perp is currently being wrestled into the back of a cruiser, two of NYPD’s finest at the helm.Alec, her partner for more than a year, is currently leaning against their own car, smirk in place and arms folded across his chest. Unlike her, he’s bone dry and giving her a haughty look. “If you insist on swimming with the pond life, Fairchild, what am I supposed to do about it?”





	the driving force

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kadtherine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kadtherine/gifts).



> written for oreosmunroe for the shbeta winter exchange. i went with the fbi FREEZE prompt, and kinda took freeze a little literally :D
> 
> i hope you like it and that it's what you could have asked for. i kinda love this verse a lot tbh.
> 
> thank you SO much to tothebitterend who betad for me :D

“You could be more sympathetic,” Clary says, wringing out her t-shirt. The cold is starting to seep into her skin and the sooner she gets somewhere warm, the better. The perp is currently being wrestled into the back of a cruiser, two of NYPD’s finest at the helm.

Alec, her partner for more than a year, is currently leaning against their own car, smirk in place and arms folded across his chest. Unlike her, he’s bone dry and giving her a haughty look. “If you insist on swimming with the pond life, Fairchild, what am I supposed to do about it?”

Clary sticks her tongue out, refusing to acknowledge the childishness of the gesture. She drags her fingers through her hair, and doesn’t even want to look at herself in the car mirror, more than aware of how she must look. “Drive me back to the office.”

Opening his mouth, probably to argue, Alec gives her yet another once over and then sighs dramatically, opening the driver door. “Fine, but you’re explaining to Izzy that this isn’t my fault.”

“Uh-huh,” Clary says, grinning as she rounds the car to the passenger side.

Alec being mildly terrified of his sister never gets old, and is definitely a plus for their relationship - both working and personal. Clary’s pretty sure Alec hated her on sight, and even more so when she finally worked up the courage to ask the better Lightwood out on a date.

The drive back to the Plaza is quiet. Alec doesn’t talk much at the best of times, but even less when he’s driving. Clary doesn’t mind; she’s used to Alec’s quiet judgement, and even when he is verbal, it’s with the dry wit it took her a long time to understand.

“So glad to wrap this up,” Clary moans, resting against the headrest and making a face as her wet hair presses against already cold skin. “I need _warmth_.”

Alec snorts, an amused smile tugging at his mouth. “It’ll be nice to beat Magnus home for a change.”

Clary grins, latching onto the rare admission of a personal life. Obviously, being engaged to Alec’s sister means she’s constantly in the loop about Alec and Magnus’ relationship, but Alec _never_ talks about himself. “Got a hot date planned, huh?”

“Yes,” Alec deadpans. He gives her a look, then turns his attention back to the road. “You know I don’t.”

It’s true that neither of them really expected the case to wrap this quickly, but Clary’s all too glad about it. There’s still work to do; interviews and paperwork and more footwork, but Clary’s going to get some damn sleep before they have to wade back into the horror. She tries her hardest to match Alec hour for hour, and she’s pretty much the only other person in the bureau who can work on Alec’s heels, but she’s only human.

“So take him out somewhere. You need it as much as he does,” Clary proffers, rubbing at her eyes with the heels of her hands.

“What I need is sleep,” Alec says, letting out a sigh. “I can’t remember the last time I did.”

“Last night in the breakroom. Magnus bought you dinner,” Clary tells him helpfully.

Alec’s amused, she can tell, but he doesn’t say anything else until he’s pulling into the parking lot. As soon as the car’s in park, Alec’s giving her a pointed look. “Get your wet ass out my car.”

Clary thinks she’s justified in the punch she gives his shoulder.

  
  
  


 

“Fairchild! Lightwood!”

Clary’s head abruptly comes up at the shout. Maybe it’s Pavlovian, she thinks wryly, as soon as she recognises the voice. Pulling away from the hand dryer, a pointless effort to dry herself, she sees Izzy standing in the doorway, eyes narrowed as she takes in Clary, and Alec, who’s currently sitting on the sink, fingers curled around the edge, and grinning at Clary’s wasted efforts.

“What the hell happened to you?”

“Alec couldn’t run fast enough, so I had to swim after our perp,” Clary gets in, before Alec can open his mouth.

Alec scowls, but Izzy’s already across the bathroom, fingers curling around Clary’s elbow.

“You’re alright, though?” Izzy asks, eyes searching Clary’s face.

“I always am,” Clary assures her, leaning in for a quick kiss. “Your brother’s watching my back after all.”

“Not well enough,” Izzy says, giving her brother a pointed look.

“Hey,” Alec says, holding up his hands. “I kept her alive, didn’t I? Besides,” he adds, with a familiar grin. “This way you get to warm her up.”

Izzy gives him the middle finger, but it startles a laugh out of Clary.

“Go spoil your boyfriend,” Clary tells him, punching his thigh.

“I’m gonna tell the chief about all this workplace violence,” Alec says as a parting shot, jumping down from the sink and heading for the door. “See you later, Iz.”

“Bye,” Izzy says, her attention already back on Clary. “Was it alright?”

“Izzy.” Clary squeezes Izzy’s arm. “It was _fine_.”

Izzy sighs, resting her forehead against Clary’s. “I know you can take care of yourself, but I _saw_ this one and it was - I knew what he was capable of.”

“I know.” Clary keeps her voice soft, images she wishes she could erase from both their minds thrown up by Izzy’s words. “We caught him before any more, before you had to _do_ anything more.”

Sometimes, she thinks, it’s a wonder she and Izzy make it okay. They both work for the FBI; Izzy in the pathology lab, and Clary in violent crime. The things they see, both separate and together, are more than enough to give them nightmares for life, but Clary’s just glad that they can both find the silver lining. They try and leave work behind, though they’re not always successful, and they surround themselves with enough friends that they have non-FBI focus away from work.

“Come on,” Izzy says eventually, curling a hand around the back of Clary’s neck. “Let’s get you a warm bath and a movie.”

Clary groans, closes her eyes as she rests her head against Izzy’s shoulder. “That sounds like the best offer I’ve ever had.”

Izzy’s laugh is like balm, Clary thinks, and lets herself be pulled from the bathroom.

  
  
  
  


 

A bath in the Fairchild-Lightwood household is definitely an Affair.

Bubbles, candles, coffee and music. The _works_.

It’s just what the doctor ordered, and Clary drops her robe in the doorway, watching with delight the way Izzy’s eyes darken. Clary’s still cold and wet, desperate to sink into the warmth of the bath, but she lets Izzy tug her close, kiss her with enough passion and love that Clary _could_ see herself wait for the bath as long as Izzy keeps kissing her like that.

“Later,” Izzy promises, tucking a strand of hair behind Clary’s ear.

Clary is a little disappointed, but as soon as she sinks her legs into the bath, Izzy’s fingers still curled around hers, she lets out a soft moan. It’s _nice_ and she relishes the feeling of being able to soak, rather than a quick shower to get rid of the grime and wear of a case. It’s nice to have Izzy follow her in, and she takes her fill; the long, lean legs of her fiance, the curve of her hips and breasts, the smile on her face as she catches Clary looking.

The bath had been the biggest draw to their apartment, large enough for the both of them, and wide enough to allow for a full stretch. She luxuriates in the size, curls around Izzy when she sits down, and rests her chin on Izzy’s shoulder.

“I’ve missed this,” she says quietly. “The entire time we were working on the case, all I could think about was getting home to you, holding you, being with you.”

Izzy lets out a small noise, tangles their fingers together. The feel of her is familiar, wanted, and Clary’s desperate to have more, to have everything. She doesn’t say anything, just lets Clary have her moment, and she’s grateful. She’s not sure what Izzy can say that they haven’t a million times before.

“Come here.” Clary settles for pulling Izzy close, relearning her skin, her smile, her expressions. It’s always like new, especially after the week-long cases that seem to consume her life. “I’m so lucky to have you.”

Flushing, Izzy’s cheeks blossom beneath the blush, and Clary runs her fingers over the colour. Izzy catches her fingers, kisses them. “I’m the lucky one.”

Clary’s fairly sure she is; partnering with Alec had been an accident, but she was even luckier to fall (almost literally) into Izzy during her first trip to the morgue, and she’s been falling constantly ever since. It seems trite and flowery, but it’s the truth. Every day she wakes to Izzy, every day she gets to come home to this, to have Izzy beneath her hands is a blessing.

“Tell me what you’ve been doing,” Clary asks, brushing her lips against Izzy’s wrist.

“Magnus called me.” Izzy kisses at Clary’s shoulder, lips sucking at the soft skin there. Clary tips her head back, melts into the sensations. Izzy’s mouth, her fingers, _everything_ about her is enough to have Clary melt beneath her.

“Oh?” Clary’s only half interested in the answer, much more content to have Izzy keep kissing her neck. “And?”

“Apparently he was disappointed that Alec never let him stay with you guys when he brought dinner.”

Alec had been pretty quick to leave with him, Clary notes.

Izzy continues, between bites, teeth grazing gently at Clary’s shoulder, her neck, her jaw. “He brought dinner and everything, and all Alec wanted to do was _work_.”

“You know how he gets,” Clary says, feeling the need to speak up for him, despite her _knowing_ how obsessive Alec can be. “Besides, it’s not as if Magnus couldn’t put his foot down if he really wanted to.”

“Not sure that’s exactly what he wants to do in the breakroom,” Izzy replies, raising her eyebrows pointedly.

Clary’s mouth drops open. “Are you kidding me? In the _breakroom_?”

“Magnus would shag Alec in an alley, Clary, is it really so bizarre that he’d have an Alec-at-work fetish?”

Alec at work is a pretty confident sight, Clary can agree, as comfortable as she is in her own relationship, and with the knowledge that Alec is as gay as they come. She can admit that she found him attractive in the beginning, has even told Alec so just to see the disgust on his face. Alec’s pride in his sexuality is as heartwarming as it is amusing to draw out, even if she has to admit to liking him to do so. After all, she thinks wryly, drawing Izzy into a kiss, she has a thing for Lightwoods.

“Why are we talking about my brother’s ridiculous relationship,” Izzy says, settling more comfortably against Clary, her legs bracketing Clary’s thighs, and her fingers gentle on Clary’s shoulders. “When we could be doing something so much more interesting?”

“Oh?” Clary teases, fingers dancing lightly under the water, tracing Izzy’s hip and stomach. “What could possibly be more interesting than Alec and Magnus?”

Izzy snorts, nose wrinkling in the way Clary loves. She pokes her tongue out between her teeth, looking every bit the sultry princess that Clary was drawn to her first day on the job, wanting Izzy and being determined to have her. “I could show you.”

“Please,” Clary says, her voice just a touch above pleading. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” Izzy promises, leaning in for a kiss. “I always miss you.  
  


 

 

Alec takes one look at the hickey on her neck and makes a face. “Please don’t tell me _anything_ about how you spent your night.”

“We talked about you,” Clary says with a grin, relishing the myriad of emotions that flicker over Alec’s face. She’s fairly certain there’s revulsion there, as well as a little bit of interest.

Taking the driver side, Clary holds her hand out for the keys. Alec tosses them over, complaining under his breath about abysmal driving. Clary wisely doesn’t mention the amount of tickets Alec has against her, and slides into the car.

“Besides,” Clary points out, poking at the tattoo on Alec’s neck. “Don’t think I don’t see the hickey you’re trying to hide with that thing.”

“The tattoo was there first,” Alec says, though Clary notes with a comment that he doesn’t deny it. There’s a flush of red on his cheeks. “Magnus has a thing.”

“I know,” Clary says, having heard Magnus himself wax lyrical about the tattoos on Alec’s body and his oh-so-obvious attraction to them. “If you don’t wanna hear about my love life, I definitely don’t wanna hear about yours.”

“Noted,” Alec says, wry, and buckles his seatbelt. “Come on, Fairchild. Let’s get these interviews over with and maybe I can get my paperwork done before midnight.”

“Here’s hoping,” Clary breathes, and starts the car. “If all else fails, you could always call Magnus to the office. I hear he also has a thing about shagging you in the breakroom of the FBI.”

Alec’s indignant squawk is swallowed by the rumble of the engine, and not even the awful interview that follows is enough to wipe the smile off of Clary’s face.

 

**.end**


End file.
